In the dragon’s eyes, he could see an immense pain and a sense of confusion. The dragon was not faring well. Gingerly, he took a few steps closer to approach its massive form.
The Great Dragon caught the Sage’s movement out of the corner of one eye. In its confused state, it snapped at the young man with his massive jaws, missing the Sage by mere inches.
“Hold!” Gallian cried. But it was no use. The dragon did not seem to recognize who or what he was. It lunged forward with a massive paw and swiped at the Sage, which Gallian dodged easily. Its movements were slower than normal, which was the only reason he was still alive.
“Hold, Great Dragon! It is I, Sage Gallian, and I have come to your aid!” he called out again.
This time, he could see a glimmer of recognition in the dragon’s eyes as the word ‘Sage’ resonated. The dragon had been preparing to defend itself with fire, but it stopped mid-breath and lowered its giant head back to the ground.
Gallian put one hand in front of him and reached out to touch the dragon’s head as per the old custom. The Great Dragon allowed the tiny human to touch him, a sign of great respect.
“I am sorry that I could not come sooner, Great Dragon,” the Sage said. “I have only just learned that the Dragonskin Scroll has been stolen from Sanctuary following a major attack, and I fear greatly for your life.”
The dragon made a slight motion with its head like it was nodding in agreement. The movement was faint but there. “I felt its disappearance like a knife through my heart, Wise One,” the Great Dragon responded in a weak, raspy voice. In between the slow movements and the rough tone, it was obvious the dragon was dying.
“The scroll has been defiled,” it continued. “A spell calling forth a never-ending stream of weaponry has been scrawled upon it, and the scroll has been hidden from even my view.”
Gallian gasped. Summoning magic, even for something inert like weapons, was draining. If the spell on the scroll was not stopped, it would drain the dragon’s power in a matter of hours. No wonder it was so weak.
“I am glad to see that you could come to visit me, Wise One, but why have you not brought any of your Sage friends with you? Surely, they fear for my life as much as you. I know that Olon, at least, cares deeply for me, does he not?”
Gallian sighed. There was no easy way to say what would come next. “I am sure he did, Great Dragon, but, uh . . . well, they won’t be coming this time.” He was trying to soften the blow to the degree he was able. There was no need to tell the dragon everything, not if it was going to die anyway.
The Great Dragon was wiser than that, however, and pressed him for answers. “Why will they not be coming, Wise One? Why? Has a great sickness befallen them that you escaped? Are they all gone traveling? What has happened?”
“Well, the palace was attacked by hordes of Death Beasts, with Muertaa and Shade-Spinner in the lead,” he said. “They killed many, and, in my haste to destroy an enemy I killed some, as well.” He hung his head low. “It was through a wrongful use of Tytin magic, Great Dragon.”
The dragon just stared back at him with cold, unmoving eyes.
“I’m afraid I was the Sage in Olon’s prophecy of things to come. I bet he never thought it would come in his lifetime. I don’t know what else to say, Great Dragon. I was wrong.”
The dragon coughed, and a tiny cloud of smoke flared out from its nostrils. “Do not worry too much, Wise One. No one can fight against a prophecy. Not even the gods have the power to stop them. You did what you had to.”
Gallian raised his head, happy that the dragon was not going to eat him for his insolence. “Yes, you are right, Great Dragon. This is not the time for despair, but for planning.”
“Yes, Wise One. And plan we shall. First and foremost, remember that if two Wyvern-Masters were able to enter the Sanctuary, then more will, and the remaining artifacts will not be safe for long. They need but kill you to break the protective wards. But you did not come here to speak of such things, no, I can see that. Tell me, Wise One, why have you come to see me?”
The young Sage bit his lip. “Well, Great Dragon, I knew that with the scroll gone, your life would be jeopardized, and that you’d be in trouble. I came to offer whatever help I can to make certain you live. I can’t let you die. Kallor will never survive!” A tear fell from his eye as he spoke, splashing to the ground.
“I fear it is already much too late to stop that from happening, Wise One. My death will surely come soon if the scroll is not recovered. I cannot survive long with it draining my life force at this rate.” It coughed again, and this time a small flame spat out of its mouth. Then he rolled his head over onto its side a little bit. Even the effort to breathe seemed to be intensely draining.
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